


Happy Birthday

by saturnineIlluminatus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Locked In, References to Suicide, Sadstuck, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnineIlluminatus/pseuds/saturnineIlluminatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dirk Strider, and you're currently beaten, bloody and locked in your apartment. Your brother's gone, like usual, leaving you alone with your only friend, who you're sure doesn't even love you.</p><p>Just like everyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday

You used to think your brother was the greatest thing in the world. You imagine that he used to be cool and amazing. You imagine those times when you would hang out and have brotherly spars and watch shitty anime together.

You let out a small sigh at the thought of how well you and your brother used to get along. You slam the laptop closed, cutting off all means of communication to the outside of your apartment, Walking over to your bed, you grab Lil Cal and snuggle up for a nice nap. You wish you could be somewhere else, but you weren't allowed to go to school. "The Batterwitch can strike at any time, bro," Dave used to tell you. You _would_ go out, wander the streets, but that stupid-as-fuck bust of Ben Stiller was sitting outside the front door, waiting there as a gift for your brother.

"Remember, Cal? When Brother got drunk and hit us? And then... he left and..." You frown. You were sure that anyone else would see the situation you were in as a webcomic cliché, maybe thinking you would go on an adventure to get out. But no. It was a fucking nightmare.

You could get food from the kitchen, but there's nothing in the fridge but swords due to the fact that your brother's rarely home. You feel like a fucking prisoner, feigning sleep whenever you hear the slamming door that signalled your brother's rare returns home.

You slip your hand to the back of Cal's face, making his mouth move as you mumble the reply: "It's okay, little man! Things'll get better, because I'll be here to protect you! I love you!" By the end you were trying not to sob. Your brother used to tell you that when you were young, but it had been so, so long since anyone had ever told you they loved you. You couldn't choke back the tears any longer.

"I-it'll be okay, little man... Shhh, don't cry." You make the puppet talk again, using its soft hand to pat your hair. God, how you longed for human contact.

You snuggled into the puppet, hiding your face in the doll's chest as you cried. That morning... Why did it have to go so wrong? You... You should've just kept your mouth shut.

The door had opened and closed quietly. It was nearly three in the morning when your elder brother had gotten home that day. Things at work had begun to pick up at an awful rate, and the stress was obvious in his face (and in the smell of booze and cigarettes that cloaked him). He walked into the house to find you still up, watching TV. You'll never understand why he'd been so angry over a petty thing like that.

Your brother had yelled at you. Not the kind of yell a kid normally gets when they've stayed up past their bedtime, no, the kind of yell that makes your shoulders shake and your mind with there was a mother that you could go running to-- to hide in their warmth and know that as long as they was there nothing could hurt you. He had screamed about how you should be in bed and that he was appalled that you had disobeyed that one simple rule.

"And... I yelled back that he was never there, so the rules didn't matter... Remember, Cal? I was so tired that night..." He made the doll nod and pretend to yawn. "Bro didn't like that..."

He had walked over and grabbed your arm, pulling you off the couch and holding onto you much too tightly. He yelled, "Well, if the rules don't fucking matter, then why don't you just break more of them? Go ahead, become a faggot and have an orgy in the fucking bathtub!"

The way he'd said it was so offensive that all you could think to do was scream that he was one and that he should've just admitted it already. Even though you knew it was a complete lie.

"...H-he hit me, Cal. Not like w-when we used to strife... He actually seemed like he wanted to hurt me..." You sniffled and wiped your nose. "It hurt, Cal... And then h-he said that I was acting like a child..."

You wiped your eyes next, lower lip quivering. "R-remember? Then... I said that he was b-being childish..."  Another sob. "A-and he said it was better to be childish than have a kid l-like me?"

You had nearly started crying when your brother had said that, but you retorted without even thinking first. "You know what? I'll tell the fucking neighbours you hit me! A-and you'll get sent to jail and'll never be let out!"

You couldn't hold back your sobs after that. You can hardly remember what your brother had done after that, but you did remember your brother's broken skin, blood, the wall, the floor and the metal that littered it, the living room table. You had woken up later in the afternoon in a pool of dried blood on your bed, most of the things in the apartment broken and the front door blocked by something.

"I'm starting to get kinda hungry, Cal... I-I don't know what I'm going to do. I..." You look down at the doll and bring its arms around you for a hug as you stare at the pillows.

"You're such a good listener... W-what should I do? I know I can last a week without starving, but..." You swallow thickly and make the doll's head move again, letting it tell you that he knew how to make everything better.

You bring the puppet's mouth to your ear and pretend to listen for a moment, glancing at the window, then at the laptop. You're on the top floor of the apartment complex... More than enough.

"But... Couldn't Jake...? H-he could help, you know. He could save me..."

"Don't be stuuuuuuuupid, kid! You really think he would help a weakling like you? He doesn't love you! Nobody does!"

"Cal... T-That's awful... I mean... You love me... Right?"

The doll didn't respond. You just leave it on the bed as you sit up, shaking it a bit. "Cal...?" You shake it again, trying to wake it up before sobbing into your hands until you remembered that the doll wasn't really alive. It was just you. It had always been you. And if you stayed like this it'd only be you.

You look to the window again, still sobbing as you get up and walk over to it. "Nobody wants me here... I-I don't belong..."

Then you crawl onto the window sill, seeing your brother walk through the front door. "He'd be better off without me..."

After a few minutes you hear the elevator reach your floor, the footsteps walking to the front door. You let out a loud sob, moving to crouch there. "What was I supposed to do...? I'm just a kid..."

The thing in front of the door was moved to the side. You heard it. You look back to the open door, ready to push yourself off the ledge as your brother dropped the grocery bag of birthday cake, running to the window before you fall.

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Mad World one too many times while writing this.


End file.
